


Bruised Fruit

by hedgerowhag



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: (further warnings/spoilers in the notes), Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Body Dysphoria, Drunk Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Friends With Benefits, Gender Dysphoria, M/M, Trans Character, Unsafe Sex, this is vaguely set in England
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 14:38:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14813285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedgerowhag/pseuds/hedgerowhag
Summary: Hux had reasoned they will be done once the semester is over. They will go home, shaking off the feeling of each other’s touches as they move onto someone else. Hux assured himself with those thoughts as Kylo lied underneath him.





	Bruised Fruit

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: by writing this i didnt intend on trying to express a universal experience of being transgender and facing the issue of accidental pregnancy. im not saying that there is one valid way of responding to this situation. ur experience is urs and it is as important and valid as any other. u are comfortable with ur body and u are happy with being pregnant? thats great, im proud of u. u are uncomfortable with ur body and the idea of carrying something makes u feel physically sick? same and im here for u. no response at all to this issue? im proud of u too. all i ask is that u share this sentiment and respect my choice of representing this situation. experience differs from person to person so please bear that in mind 
> 
> WARNINGS: PiV sex, birth control failing, gender/body dysphoria (im serious, if u arent feeling that great, skip this), pregnancy scare. please tell me if i forgot something
> 
> i'll respond to any questions/issues as '@spacecadet'

They were caught in different conversations at opposite ends of the room, separated by crowds and music. This was the last night; spring is over, and exams are done. They were saying goodbyes to people they knew for three years. But they caught themselves meeting at the bar, nudging shoulders and ordering the same drinks. It was like they only just met each other.

When words got slurred, they made conversation in the light of the bar, talking easier than with the people they left behind. They stayed until two in the morning, struggling to hear over the music, ignoring friends waving goodnight.

The house Hux shares was empty; some people were still out, others already left the city for home. There was no one to hear the sounds Kylo made when Hux kissed him behind the closed door in the light of the streetlamps coming through the glass.

They think of themselves as practice partners. It’s nothing serious; they just like to fuck when they can buy the time. It doesn’t mean they have to know each other outside this, besides recognising each other’s faces in the lecture hall.

They do anyway, getting tipsy on weekdays and slurring confessions at the bar as they wait to be served.

“I’m petrified of driving. Like, I have to wipe down the wheel it gets so sweaty.”

“I didn’t know how to tie shoelaces until I was ten.”

“What?”

“What do you mean what?”

They come back to Kylo’s or Hux’s, spend the night touching and tasting as they take off each other’s clothes. In the morning, if one isn’t in a state to leave, they lie on the opposite sides of the mattress and watch the scene on the laptop screen at their feet.

Hux had reasoned they will be done once the semester is over. They will go home, shaking off the feeling of each other’s touches as they move onto someone else. Hux assured himself with those thoughts as Kylo lied underneath him and Hux fucked him with his fingers. They like it this way, when Hux holds Kylo down to the bed with the weight of his body, biting his ear as Kylo whines into the pillows and lifts his hips against Hux’s hand.

They fucked that night with half of their clothes on. Hux had pulled Kylo’s jeans over his ass, his ironed white shirt twisted on his wrists as his red knuckles stuck out. They were too drunk to find any sense to stop when Hux turned Kylo over and climbed into his lap with a sudden, wild determination.

“I am going to let you fuck me,” Hux told Kylo and got a sloppy smile when he fumbled for an unused box of condoms.

Hux was too drunk and numb with satisfaction of work being done and having Kylo underneath him to find discomfort in his body. He felt like nothing could overcome his giddiness, not even the vague, sickly sense that something is somehow out of place.

Hux’s voice was hoarse with alcohol as he grunted at Kylo to stop trying to jerk him off while he ripped into the condom wrapper. They sputtered with laughter when numb hands slipped and Hux fell onto Kylo, printing their faces together. It took another recomposed attempt for Hux to push Kylo’s cock inside. He seated himself as Kylo licked into his slack mouth until he started laughing again. There was an ache in his pelvis, a stretch between his thighs. It felt too good to be terrified.

Kylo was red faced and lax underneath him, stupid with pleasure and the drinks. They fucked, too tired to make it anything more than lazy humping. Hux had his fingers in Kylo’s mouth, fucking them against his tongue, testing the softness of his cheeks, watching Kylo’s red lips drip spit onto his chest.

Hux was biting Kylo’s ear when his felt his body finally jerk. Kylo was holding him down by his hips, crying out against Hux’s neck. Their hips ground together, laughing, too warm with sticky sweat, breathing the muggy air of the room.

Hux tipped off onto the mattress, too tired to go the bathroom to wash the sweat off his neck or pull socks off his feet. He was sinking into sleep when the bedframe creaked with Kylo’s weight crashing beside him.

The summer air kept them warm as they snored, legs twisted in the covers, breathing into the stale pillows.

 

 

The construction work on the adjacent road work wakes them up first. Hux wipes Kylo’s spit off his shoulder and turns toward him, hitching one of Kylo’s legs over his hip to replace the blanket bunched at the foot of the mattress. Kylo grunts against his neck and continues to sleep.

At ten, a phone is buzzing. Hux jerks up, sneezing into the covers Kylo pulled over them. He kicks himself out of bed and trips to the floor, over estimating his coordination. On bare knees Hux shuffles to the clothes dropped across the floor. He picks his phone out of his jacket and swipes at the alarm.

Sitting on his heels, sock drooping and curdling on his toes, Hux pulls the scattered clothes toward himself. They will have to be laundered before being stuffed into the suitcase that been filling out with unnecessary accumulations.

Hux struggles for the shirt, turning and almost tipping onto the carpet as he searches. Too nauseas to stand, he crawls and palms the floor. His fingertips scratch cold, slick carpet fibres that sink under his nails and Hux blanches, looking underneath his palm.

Kylo must have thrown the condom onto the floor after being too dizzy to walk to the bin. The lube has dried out, but liquid bubbles on the sagging tip, the other end is tied off. The carpet is congealed in a dark patch. Hux presses his fingers there, watching the off-white leak out onto his knuckles from the latex. He lifts his hand, skin tacked together by the thick liquid. He feels sick.

Hux stands, swaying as he reaches for his dresser and shoves out the clothes. He doesn’t notice that he is dragging the sweatpants on the floor as he walks out of the bedroom, down the corridor to the bathroom. His footsteps are losing their stiffness, balking at the knees as his face pinches white.

Hux doesn’t manage to close the door before nausea takes over and he must sit on the closed toilet lid. His legs jitter as though picking up a jog as he crams his head between his forearms. He can smell the sweat and spilled drinks drying on his skin, the faint aftermath of sex.

Gagging on his tongue, Hux moans into his knees, curling inward, toes scrunched in the bathroom mat. But the more he sits, the less likely there is a chance that he will be able to stand again. Hux groans as he pushes himself up and lifts one foot onto the toilet.

Nausea is tilting Hux forward until his forehead is pressing against the tiled wall as he reaches between his thighs. Shuddering, he fumbles to shove sweaty fingers inside himself, wincing when nails scrape. He pushes as far as he is able, ignoring the uncomfortable stretch.

Clear fluid pulls in webs between Hux’s knuckles in the light. He reaches down again, holding his breath. Afraid of side effects moulding his body out of proportion, making it bulge and grow, Hux has never taken hormonal birth control. He is proud of his body, of how it had changed under _his_ control. It feels irrational, but the risk kept him from taking the precaution.

The bedroom is well lit by the sunlight coming through the rowan trees lining the pavement of the road. Kylo is still asleep, face smeared into a pillow as he snores. Hux shoves him when he kneels on the mattress.

Kylo spasms and snorts, blinking as though expecting a fire. He looks around, but only sees Hux who spits at him, “Kylo—Get up.”

Kylo rubs his crusted eyelashes and turns on his back, his expression flattening once he realises there is no boiler explosion or home invasion. But when Hux continues to stare, his face unnaturally white and eyes pink, Kylo looks around the room again. Hux watches Kylo’s attention drop to the floor and his eyes fix on the carpet.

Hux has been able to remain composed so far, stopping the hysteria rising to his throat. But knowing that Kylo sees it too, that it wasn’t a misunderstanding, breaks something.

Kylo is still lying in bed when Hux’s face twists. There is a burn in his throat and he is embarrassed for his exposed body but covering himself feels useless; everything disgusting was already seen –  felt. The sweat, the spit, the red blotches, the white papery skin and blue-purple veins. He may as well try ripping his skin off and inspect it with Kylo beside him. Hux tries not to move his eyes from Kylo and watch him through a blur.

Kylo looks with such calmness from the hair tangled over his face that the scratches on Hux’s thighs are almost forgettable. But then Kylo’s is getting up and his feet are dropping onto the floor on the other side of the bed. Hux remembers his legs being caught around Kylo’s thighs, his palms on his hips.

Hux swallows and reaches for the dresser. “I need to go,” he says as he crumples a t-shirt in his hand. “The pharmacies will be open now.”

Keys and wallet are dumped beside the jacket where Hux had thrown the clothes. Standing from the bed, he thumbs the cash, dropping scrunched receipts and change as he walks. The notes are clumped in a fist, leaving the cards. Hux tries to shrug on the t-shirt when the fabric is pulled off his arms.

Hux turns and continues tipping as the nausea drags him down. Kylo catches him, grunting under his weight, and pushes Hux toward the bed, following him step for step until Hux is sat on the mattress. The notes are scrunched in front of Hux’s chest as Kylo shoves him down onto the covers. Kylo takes the cash from Hux’s hands and picks the wallet off the floor. He shoves the paper wad inside and the lost change, then clips the wallet and places it on top of the dresser.

“Kylo,” Hux grits out, “I need to go. This won’t be solved on its own.”

“I know,” Kylo tells him and Hux is afraid, for a moment. “I’ll get you water,” Kylo says, getting up.

Hux drops his head on the mattress when Kylo leaves his view. There is scuffling and the door clicks in the frame.

Hux’s bare feet are knocking on the floor as he swings his legs, watching the shadows of the foliage on the ceiling. There is nothing left to feel as Hux’s eyes start to burn and the cracks in the plaster blur. Water is running in the bathroom, ceramic clinking.

“Here, c’mon.”

Hux twitches at Kylo’s voice. He sits up and a mug of water is pushed into his stiff fingers.

“You need anything?” Kylo asks, sitting down on the bed. He has found the underwear from last night, but not a shirt or urgency. “I can scrape up breakfast.”

Hux weighs the mug in his hands and looks at Kylo. “You think I’m over reacting.”

Kylo is quiet. He crosses his arms and shrugs. He has been understanding, when they undressed for the first time at the beginning of their second year in university and he found a binder underneath Hux’s shirt. He has been understanding when Hux didn’t want to be touched and couldn’t stand to speak. But his empathy is limited as their common ground of experience ends.

Kylo’s eyes are bleary underneath his uncombed fringe and Hux can see where teeth split his lip. Hux laughs and looks aside as he rubs his eyes. “I need to go.”

 “No,” Kylo grunts at him. “Go back to sleep.”

Hux moves to the edge of the bed, prepared to throw the mug.

“Just go to sleep; you’ve gonna get sick if you keep wriggling like that.” Kylo pulls the covers roughly onto Hux’s shoulders, leaving them when they droop onto the bed.

Hux watches from the mattress as Kylo dresses himself in yesterday’s clothes, fumbling through his pockets. His face is getting warm again, he doesn’t think he can swallow past the mucus swelling at the back of his throat.

“Kylo—”

“Sleep,” Kylo tells him as he opens the bedroom door, stepping out into the corridor. “Don’t worry about it, yeah?”

The handle clicks. Hux listens to the boots on the steps and the ring of the lock in the hallway.

Lying on the bed, with the empty mug on the floor, Hux covers his eyes. His head is swaying as though on water. He wants to get up, shower. Maybe eat. But any movement is regretful, like his body has separated from his mind and refusing to move with his urgency. Perhaps that’s for the best; seeing himself, feeling his skin shift, will remind him of the wet patch on the floor, the sticky slide of his thighs. He will vomit.

Water is dripping in the bathroom. The house is otherwise silent. The covers are bunched under Hux’s head, skin prickled by the breeze coming through the ajar window. He is still drunk and falls easily into sleep. He doesn’t hear when the front door opens and plastic bags crinkle in the kitchen.

Ceramic is clanking as footsteps shuffle outside the bedroom door. Hux peeks through the crack of his sore eyelids at Kylo standing beside the bed. He smells the heat of the roads and the plastic of the bag hanging over one of his arms. Kylo sets two mugs on the dresser and sits with his back to Hux as he reaches into the shopping bag.

A card box is held toward Hux. He can hear the rattling of foil and plastic inside. He takes it from Kylo’s hand and looks at the label.

“What the fuck,” Hux says, dropping his hand to look at Kylo, chins gathering as he tilts his head. “I could’ve bought it myself.” It isn’t cheap, but he could have managed it, taking in account the set back of the emergency pill in the week’s expenses.

Kylo shrugs. “It was my fault.” He is handing a plastic picnic cup to Hux, water slipping over the rim.

Sitting up, Hux takes the drink. “Were you the one climbing on me? No. I can take responsibility for my decisions. It’s not for you to do that.”

“I should have stopped you. We were drunk. We still are. I think.”

“I could have paid for it.”

“I know.”

Hux looks at the single pill at the centre of the foil rectangle. Like a single grain planted in an absurdly large pot. He doesn’t feel sick, so he thumbs it out and swallows it, drinking the entire cup of water even as he feels the grain pass down his throat.

They sit on the edge of the bed looking at the window. Steam is coming from the mugs on the dresser, staining the room with the smell of coffee.

“I never want you to fuck me like that again,” Hux says over the sound of the cars passing on the road. Someone’s door is closed, rattling the knocker.

“Okay,” responds Kylo. “Do you want a Freddo?”

Hux stares as Kylo unravels the plastic bag in his lap and tips out packets of chocolate onto the bed. There are bottles of flavoured milk and fruit smoothies.

“What?” Kylo asks, still rooting in the bag.

“What do you mean what? What the hell is this?”

“Are you going to take any or nah?”

Their legs are hanging over the edge of the bed. Hux is drinking coffee, one hand shoved into the packet of cookies Kylo bought. Words are sitting under his skin, trembling with caffeine and fear. He thinks he feels a weight in his stomach. He wants Kylo to speak, but they are both cowards as they stuff their mouths and watch the rowan branches peek into the room through the open window.

The house is still empty when Kylo undresses and lies on top of the covers. Hux is sitting beside him, with his chin on his knees. He leans forward, looking at the uneven line of Kylo’s jaw and the rough shadow of his stubble that comes down to his neck. Hux kisses his throat, pushing his face against the rough skin. A hand brushes into his hair. Kylo is smirking, Hux can feel the shape of his lips against his hairline.

“I’m staying another week.”

Hux looks up. Kylo seems barely awake – his face is slack and eyes glassy. “Okay,” he says.

“You haven’t bought your train ticket, right?” asks Kylo.

“No.”

“Good. Stay.”

It will be over in a week. They are just practise partners. It’s what Hux thinks to assure himself as he lies beside Kylo, feeling the hand in his hair as he waits for the room to stop turning. Soon, they will go home, shaking off each other’s touches.

 

 

 

 


End file.
